Chapter 2

I lost all interest in picking out a wedding ring, so I bought a ticket to Mirisca and spent a few days there.

When I returned, a party was taking place.

The host had invited the Dons and Madres from various mafia families.

I got dressed up and went to the event, but I never expected to see Carlotta, in a glamorous gown, affectionately linked arm-in-arm with Demetrio.

I instantly recognized the dress she was wearing. It was the wedding dress Demetrio had custom-made for me three years ago.

At that time, I had casually mentioned how beautiful the dress looked while flipping through a bridal magazine. He had remembered it.

Demetrio went out of his way to find the designer and was rejected over and over again for years. After three years, the designer finally agreed to make it for him.

But now, the wedding dress that was supposed to be mine was on Carlotta.

She and Demetrio stood side by side, looking like the perfect couple. Meanwhile, I felt like an outsider who had stumbled in by mistake.

A tight pain gripped my chest, sharp and suffocating.

Noticing me, Carlotta lifted the hem of her dress. Her voice dripped with provocation as she asked, "Demetrio, so this is your wife?"

Her gaze then slowly drifted to my hand. "Why is one of her fingers missing?"

She smiled lightly, as if suddenly understanding something. "No wonder you always avoided bringing her to events and even let me wear her wedding dress."

The air in the room froze.

Demetrio's expression darkened, and his voice dropped. "Carlotta, stop it."

Everyone's eyes fell on my hand. Waves of contempt, curiosity, and surprise washed over me, stripping me bare.

In the next instant, I raised my hand and slapped Carlotta across the face.

The sharp sound silenced the entire room. "I'm the Madre here. You're not in a position to speak."

Carlotta clutched her quickly swelling cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. "Mi scuso, Lucia. I was just speaking my mind. I didn't realize you'd be so petty over such a small thing."

Frowning, Demetrio instinctively stepped in front of her to shield her. His eyes were full of pain.

"Enough." He grabbed my arm and dragged me away. His voice was devoid of any warmth as he said, "Stop making a scene."

In the underground parking lot, I yanked my arm away from him and asked in a trembling voice, "Why did you let her wear my wedding dress? She humiliated me in front of everyone, and you just let it happen?"

Demetrio paused for a moment. "It's just a dress. Carlotta didn't have anything appropriate to wear to the event. Besides, she said nothing wrong."

My heart sank.

"The Madre represents the face of the family," he said flatly, as though stating an irrefutable fact. "With you missing a finger, what will people think of us?"

My heart kept sinking.

"Carlotta is beautiful and graceful," he added. "It's normal for me to bring her to events."

But Demetrio had forgotten.

When his rival had first spread the news about me losing a finger, the entire city mocked me. It was him who personally went out and dealt with every single person who dared to make fun of me.

Back then, he had held my hand and said affectionately, "Anyone who dares to belittle you will pay the price."

His words still echoed in my ears, but now, Demetrio had already taken off his blazer and naturally draped it over Carlotta's shoulders.

I was left alone.

Demetrio was unhappy with me slapping Carlotta at the party. When we got home, the butler, Celso Spinosa, locked me in the family's confinement room.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Anzelmo. This is Don Farese's order. We're just following instructions."

The confinement room was cold and cramped, with no windows or light.

Within minutes, I started shaking. I banged on the door and yelled, "Where's Demetrio? I need to talk to him!"

After a long silence, Celso's voice came through, but it was tinged with hesitation. "Don Farese is with Ms. Rini. He said… you're not to disturb them."

I spent three long, endless days in that windowless confinement room. By the time I was let out, my legs were so weak I could barely stand, as though half of my soul had been drained away.

When I got my phone, notifications flooded in.

Carlotta had performed "Dream Wedding" at a concert, and Demetrio was sitting in the front row, clapping for her.

That song was the one I had picked for our wedding.